Aquaman: The Savage
by Entertainer13
Summary: A modest attempt at a reboot for Aquaman. Room for more if I decide, but for now, complete.
1. The Storm

Ultimate Aquaman: The Savage

- Entertainer13 -

Part One: The Storm

The waves crashed gently against the sides of the small vessel as it plowed its way through the ocean. The wind was brisk and clean, the smell of salt almost being forgotten. Marine biologist Miranda Greenwood looked over the edge of the S.S. Derringer, staring thoughtfully into the cold depths of the water. Her dark brown hair flew behind her, and her green eyes sparkled.

All her life, Miranda had always been captivated by the sea. What was within and what could be deep below. Raised on the coast of North Carolina all her life, she had gone to the University of Miami to study marine biology. She loved anything having to do with the water, and the creatures within held a great interest themselves. As much as the human race was working its way towards the stars, Miranda wanted to explore the sea.

"Are 'ya going to spend all day staring off, Ms. Greenwood?" a gruff voice asked her.

Commander Raymond Beck walked beside her and leaned on the edge of the ship. He was a tall man, having well over a foot on Miranda. His sandy hair was hidden under a Marlins baseball cap, and his black skin glistened with the spray from the sea. A large tattoo of a dragon stared straight at Miranda, seemingly glaring into her soul. She smiled at the man.

"I'm hoping to do just that, Ray," Miranda laughed, "I love being out here."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Beck replied, removing a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, "Ever since I was a small tike I knew I wanted to be a sailor or something close. Course, I always pictured myself fighting pirates or the like, but hey, I'm kinda there."

Beck pulled out a lighter, igniting the small, roll of paper between his fingers. Slowly, he brought the tobacco to his lips and sucked in gently. After a few moments of savoring the flavor, he let the smoke gracefully glide forth from his lips. Miranda held a look of disgust on her face, but she stayed quiet.

"Well," Miranda grinned, "It was always what was beneath the water that interested me. There's such life down there! We're in such a hurry to get off this planet sometimes, that we don't even stop to think about what we haven't seen right here at home. There's such diversity in creatures out here."

"I get what your saying, Ms. Greenwood," Roy said, letting some of the ash from his cigarette fly into the ocean, "But to most folks, there isn't anything exciting about a fish. Y'know?"

"That's true," Miranda admitted, "But I don't see what's so exiting about rocks and gas. Out there, in space, that's mostly what we've found. Sure, there have been a few new found discoveries as of late, but the ocean has just as many things to offer. No one has seen a live giant squid before. There have even been reports of humanoid beings living in the Atlantic, and-"

"Sorry to stop ya," Ray said, flicking his cigarette into the sea, "But the captain apparently wants to see me."

Miranda turned and saw Captain MacIntyre motioning for Beck to come on over. The Captain was a slightly older man, a few gray hairs peeking through his obsidian black beard. He had a completely bald head and was wearing only the formal jacket of a naval captain and a pair of jeans. Despite his odd appearance, he had been an enjoyable man to travel with. As Beck passed her, Miranda decided it might be time to check on their cargo.

Going the opposite direction of Commander Beck, Miranda headed towards the tail of the ship. With a curt turn, she found a door leading down to the main hold and entered. She flicked on the lights and slowly made her way down the narrow stairs. Various tanks surrounded her as she looked around at the numerous samples that the crew of the Derringer had collected over the past two weeks. An octopus clung to the side of its tank and various fish glowed enchantingly in the faint light of the hold. Her hand seemed to caress a tank as she looked at a strange eel swimming by.

She had been sent by a branch of STAR Labs to collect samples from the Caribbean. With the rise in metahuman activities, they wanted to see if anything had been affecting sea life. Another crew was sent to Africa, and others to South America. These breeding grounds for animal life would show some of the earliest signs of change. She smiled as the eel seemed to stare back at her. A loud crack of thunder stopped her from this strain of though.

Running up to the deck she turned towards the source of the sound. A large collection of storm clouds were bearing down towards the Derringer, and various crew members were beginning to pull down some sails and tie everything up. This must have been what Captain MacIntyre wanted to see Beck about. She hurried towards the area where the two men were still standing, alternately barking out orders and having a conversation.

"Captain MacIntyre," Miranda asked as she approached, "Are we actually going to try and make our way through that?" The clouds seemed to darken with menace.

"'Fraid so, Ms. Greenwood," Captain MacIntyre sighed, "It's too large to go around and its just barreling down on us. If we want to make it back to Florida in one piece we're going to have to try and weather it out."

Miranda gave a look to Ray and he just shrugged. Annoyed, she turned around and looked behind them. A ship was following in the distance, barely with eyeshot. It had been there for the past two hours. She frowned.

"Have we figured out yet who that is?" she asked, referencing the ship.

Looking out towards the other vessel, Ray grumbled, "They still won't answer radio calls. I looked at its name with my binoculars, but it was blank. The men working on it seemed American, though."

"I don't like it," Captain MacIntyre said heatedly, "There have been reports of piracy around here, but mostly on ships coming from Cuba or Venezuela. Still can't believe that shit's going on, this day in age." Wiping the sweat from his head, he turned to yell some more orders out to the crew.

Ray turned to Miranda, saying, "You should get below deck and do something to secure those tanks. Get the other brains you dragged along. I'll send a man down to help."

-

Everything was tied down or padded up for security. It had all taken just a few minutes, and now Miranda stayed huddled up in a corner of the room she shared with two other scientists on this mission. One was a representative of STAR Labs, as well as the mission leader, Dr. Edmund Graise. He had a shock of bright red hair on his head, but that was usually hidden under a plain black baseball cap. He had a hawk like nose and a spot covered face. He sat wrapped in a lab coat he had brought along, across from Miranda, on top of a cot.

The other scientist was a good friend of Miranda's, Stacy Holland. Short cropped blonde hair topped her head and a pair of pink rimmed glasses sat on her face. She had dressed very casually throughout this mission, doing a lot of the underwater work, much to the annoyance of Dr. Graise. Miranda laughed it off, having been used to her roommate's legendary exploits on campus. If it wasn't for her alarmingly creative intellect, she would no doubt have been removed from the class of every professor at Miami. The two were working towards their doctorates, and as part of an intern position with STAR Labs, they had been on various assignments such as this.

"I hate the sea," Graise moaned, shuddering, "I knew something like this was going to happen. I specialized in geology, not fish."

"Complaining isn't going to help, Eddy," Stacy smiled, "Let's try to not to make this worse than it already is."

"For the hundredth time, Ms. Holland," Graise said to Stacy, reproachfully, "I am to be addressed as Dr. Graise."

The two went back and forth, arguing the importance in having a chain of command when another loud crack of thunder chimed in. The Derringer had just entered the edge of the storm, rain falling down upon it. These noises had become so common in the last minute that the sound didn't even faze Graise or Stacy. The door to their cabin burst open, however, ending their argument. Wind and rain circled the room, and the large form of Commander Beck entered, shutting the door behind him.

"Would you please be more careful next time?" Graise snapped. Beck ignored him.

"Everyone in here all right?" he asked, looking around as if expecting to find three dead bodies.

"We're fine, Ray," Miranda smiled.

"You give this much attention to all your passengers?" Stacy questioned Beck, batting her eyes. Miranda shook her head, not entirely surprised that Stacy would flirt with a man during a storm like this.

"I'm checking on everyone," Ray said, not appearing to notice Stacy small advances, "We're going to try and keep our course, but MacIntyre has spotted an uncharted island. We may try and get in a bay and wait things out there."

"Did that ship follow us in?" Miranda asked about the unresponsive carrier that they had seen before.

"We think it may have tried to turn and outrun it," he answered, flipping his raincoat's hood on, "'Course, we're not exactly giving it our undivided attention. Anyway, you three stay put."

"Don't worry," Stacy smiled, "We will." Giving Stacy a smirk, Beck then left the cabin the same way he came in.

"You think he likes me, Mira?" Stacy asked, excited.

"Will you shut up!" Graise yelled, "I don't understand how you were allowed into a graduate program."

Another burst of thunder rocked the ship. This bolt was frighteningly close to the Derringer, and Captain MacIntyre was worried as he stood at the helm of the ship.

"Head towards the island," he yelled over the howling wind to the man steering, "If we can make it there, we may survive this!"

Black clouds circled over the ship like scavenging vultures. Lighting crackled down almost as often as each raindrop. The Derringer slowly plowed through wave after wave towards the island. Bolt after bolt came close with each strike until finally one struck the mast of the ship. A burst of light shone out and wood started on fire. The ship seemed to shudder and begin to fall apart.

-

The sun shone down on the washed up wreckage of the Derringer. A few birds flew overhead, squawking their displeasure at the unwanted intrusion to the island. The bow of the ship had dug its way neatly into the side of the island, while other pieces lay strewn about. No one seemed to be within sight of the ship. That proved to not be the case, however, as a large figure rose from within the bow. Tall, muscular and still wearing a Marlins cap, Commander Raymond Beck had survived the accident.

He had awoken lying beside the pieces of the ship only an hour ago. For that past hour he had been waiting patiently to see if anyone else had survived. No one else had come out from the jungle's edge and Beck feared the worst. Taking a long, good stretch he looked out to the sea. In the distance an object came into view. Slowly bobbing along the waves, it neared the island. Not wanting to give himself too much hope, he squinted his eyes to try and make out a human body. Minutes passed, and with not much else to do, he waited. The shape slowly took form every second until Beck could confirm the facts. There was someone clinging to a piece of wood.

Tearing off his shirt, Beck ran into the ocean and dived the moment his feet could no longer feel the sandy floor. Arms pounding like pistons, he made his way to the figure and floated along side it. Brushing a clump of brown hair off of the face, he smiled. Miranda Greenwood had survived. Her pulse was strong, but she had passed out for one reason or another. Carefully wrapping his arms around her lithe upper torso, he slowly carried her back to shore.

-

A lightning bolt streaked across the sky. Demonic waves formed, smiling a crooked smile. The fell down upon Miranda with fury, trying to knock her off of the wood she clung to. Water filled her lungs and she began to gasp for air, but with every gasp a wave fell upon her and more water came in. She began to black out, and she swore she could hear laughter amongst the thunder...

Miranda Greenwood awoke with a jolt, letting a small gasp escape her lips. Her chest heaving, she looked around and saw that she was no longer in the water. Looking around, she found herself surrounded by the same two people she had last seen: Dr. Graise and Stacy. Had the storm been a dream. Looking to her left she noticed the tropical trees waving in the wind, and she felt the sand beneath her feet. No, it had not been a dream. She had weathered the storm, somehow. Looking behind her, she noticed she was leaned up against a piece of the ship, proudly proclaiming that it was once the Derringer. Stacy and Dr. Graise were seated upon two logs, with Graise attempting to start a fire of some kind. Stacy tried her best to hold in her chuckles.

The sun was beginning to set, and Miranda began to wonder if anyone else had survived. Slowly, she began to rise from the ground. Stacy's head jerked in her direction, surprised.

"Mira, you're awake!" she squealed, running over and giving her friend a hug.

"Yes," Miranda choked out, trying to pry Stacy's arms off of her, "Thank you for noticing."

After successfully removing herself from the confining arms, Miranda continued, saying, "Um, did anyone else survive?"

"Sure," Stacy smiled, "Ray made it. Actually, he's the one who found you. Me and Eddy over here floated in on a table. We had to be floating around, trying to get to this island for at least three hours."

"The worst three hours of my life, I can assure you," Graise growled, frustrated as he quickly spun a stick in his hands. He couldn't understand how a man like him, with a doctorate in biological anomalies, could start a fire.

"Anyone else?" Miranda asked Stacy, trying to get back on the positive.

Stacy shrugged, "Ray's out looking for anyone who made it here. He's staying on the beach, though. He's pretty certain that anyone in there would be dead by now." Stacy motioned towards the bleak looking jungle. Odd noises echoed from within.

"Only an idiot would go in there," Graise interrupted, throwing the stick down in disgust, "And they'd deserve to die if they were that moronic."

"You're a ray of sunshine," Stacy smiled, crossing her arms and turning towards Graise, "You know that?"

"I don't see what I've got to be so cheerful about, young Ms. Holland," Graise sneered, "We're shipwrecked. Does your pea brained mind even comprehend that concept?"

"Moaning won't-"

"I'm allowed to be bitter, I think," Graise interrupted, rising from the ground and wiping sand off of his pants, "I didn't even want to be on this ship. I don't even like the damn ocean! If that brain dead captain hadn't gone and gotten us-"

"Dr. Graise!" a deep voice growled, "It's not polite to speak ill of the dead."

Everyone turned to the voice's source. Slowly walking towards the three came the figure of Raymond Beck, carrying something large. It was wrapped in pieces of cloth as well as Beck's shirt. To all present, it was quite obvious what it was.

"Captain MacIntyre?" Stacy gasped.

"Went down the way he'd have wanted," Beck smiled, carefully setting down the body of his friend, "It may sound cliché, but going down with the ship wasn't too bad of an idea, 'cording to him."

Silence fell among the group, and Beck slowly removed his cap. They all knew that Captain MacIntyre wouldn't be the only loss. From the edge of the jungle, however, a pair of blue eyes watched intently.

-

"There's some wreckage over at that island, sir," a stout, clean shaven man announced, lowering a pair of binoculars. Layers of fat flopped around his chin, and his gut hung over his belt.

He was a member of the Nameless Ship's crew. The Nameless Ship. That's what some had come to call the vessel that had been robbing a few shipments around the caribbean. The truth, though, was that the crew had been too lazy to give the ship the name, and more importantly, their leader thought it was unnecessary. A man covered in scars and wearing army fatigues walked up behind the large man.

"Webber," he said lightly, "Do you see anyone bodies around it? Alive or dead?"

"None that I can make out," Webber replied

"When we reach the shore," the man smiled, "If you find any survivors, kill them."


	2. Wild Man

Ultimate Aquaman: The Savage

- Entertainer13 -

Part Two: Wild Man

A fisherman. That's all he ever wanted to be. But destiny had other plans for Walter Helmsly. Instead of being a simple fisherman, making his way through live by searching the seas, he became a smuggler, a pirate and a murderer. Funny how life works out, isn't it?

"Captain, we're approaching the island," came the voice of the rotund Webber, "And we've spotted some movement around the wreckage."

Captain Helmsly had been sitting at his desk, center room, with his face buried in his hands. He had been in deep thought, wondering about a few things in his life. Now someone had simply barged into his quarters without warning. Suddenly he turned, flinging a knife towards Webber. The blade sliced through Webber's cheek, blood oozing out from the cut, and then slammed into the wall. Webber screamed in pain, holding onto his face. Helmsly slowly rose from his seat and calmly walked over to the knife, quickly removing it from the wall. Webber backed away from him as he slowly wiped the blood off of the blade with a handkerchief from a nearby table, and deftly placed it back in its sheath. Helmsly looked straight at Webber.

"Remember rule number one, Webber?" he sneered, "Knock. Next time I may not be in a good mood. Now, what was this about movement?" Webber began to talk, but he was in too much pain to get out more than a few gurgles. Helmsly sighed and grabbed the bloody handkerchief and threw it at Webber. "For the love of God, stop whimpering. I've been through worse." He emphasized his point by pointing at one of the seemingly hundreds of scars riddling his face. "Now get specific. By movement you mean human, right? About how many?"

Holding the handkerchief to his cheek, Webber barely managed, "Three... maybe four."

"Good," Helmsly nodded, "They probably see us and will assume we're here to rescue them. Go to shore with pistols and knives. Don't want to worry them with out automatics, now do we?" He looked at Webber, and seeing no nod, frowned. Webber saw this and immediately nodded. Helmsly smiled as he turned back towards his desk and began looking over papers. "Get as much about the wreck out of them as possible. You know what we're looking for. If they're unresponsive, kill all but one."

"What if we... what if we can't get anything?" Webber winced as he asked his question, glaring at Helmsly from behind.

"We'll dredge the entire goddamn Caribbean if we have to!" Helmsly barked, turning back towards Webber. Suddenly some movement in a nearby window caught the corner of his eye. Without a word, he slammed the window open, flinging the hatch upward. He then rushed to look outside to see if anyone had fallen. He frowned, seeing only a few dolphins leaping in the wake.

"Is there a problem," Webber asked, groaning a bit, "Sir?"

"I thought I... never mind." Helmsly backed away from the window, shaking his head. What had he seen? Looking at Webber just standing there, he glared. "You know the orders. Move!"

-

"You think they're here to rescue us?" Edmund Graise asked, shadowing the sun from his face with his left hand.

"Why else would they be here?" Stacy laughed, looking out towards the sea. A boat sat in the distance, unmarked and bearing no flags. Everyone had to squint, but the movements of people could be seen.

"Stop gawking, you two," Raymond Beck interrupted with a growl, "Let's pack up what we can just in case that is a rescue ship." He walked up behind them, carrying some of the supplies that had washed up. A flare gun sat atop a raft with a large hole in it, as well as an assortment of other supplies.

"What do you mean, 'just in case?'" Graise asked, walking towards Beck, "What else could it be?"

"Well," Beck answered dropping his burden onto a new that had been laid out on the sand, "They probably spotted us awhile ago. Why did they take their time getting over here?" Beck walked towards another pile of refuse. "Also, that's the same unmarked ship that was following us earlier. They wouldn't respond to calls. Who knows who or what is on that ship. It's best that we hope for the best and prepare for the - DAMN IT!"

Beck had just dropped a large chunk of wood on his foot, and he kicked it away to make room for him to jump around. He howled in pain as Stacy rushed over to try and calm him down. Graise just muttered to himself and walked back towards a make-shift shelter that he and the others had been working on earlier. Stacy finally got Beck to sit on the sand while she checked her foot.

"I hate this fucking island," he growled, "I'm cold, my foot's busted and I haven't had a cigarette for hours." He winced as Stacy accidentally put some pressure on his big toe. "Be careful! Do you even know what you're doing?"

"I almost went to med school, buster," Stacy said, a little offended, "I know enough."

"Well, be more careful!"

"I'm doing the best I can!"

"What's going on here?" a voice broke in. The two turned to see Miranda standing in front of them, a box of glass containers in her arms. The two just glared at each other, ignoring Miranda's question. Finally, Stacy rose up from the sand, brushed herself off and walked towards the direction Graise had gone. Miranda watched as her friend left, and then looked at Beck expectantly.

"What!" he yelled defensively, "I didn't do a damn thing. She's just high strung." Miranda raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I dropped something on my foot and she went and poked it. It hurt, for the love of God!" Miranda shook her head and carefully placed the box on the sandy beach. Kneeling in front of Beck, she took a look at his foot.

"It's not sprained or broken," Miranda said after a few seconds, "Just bruised, you big baby."

"I'm not the one who stormed off," Beck growled.

"Just because you haven't had a cigarette for awhile, you go ballistic on her," Miranda responded practically, "She likes you, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I know," Beck sighed, looking over towards the direction of the sea, "But I'm a little more worried about a few other things. Who knows what the hell is in that boat."

"Well, I found the flares for the gun," Miranda said, rising from the ground, "That's our best shot. If we get a small army down here, we're not exactly going to have the best chances."

"True," Beck admitted, "Let's just get the rest of the stuff together and be careful."

-

Two, small boats floated up and down in the waves, heading towards the uncharted island. One boat sat behind, about three men sitting inside, all large and wearing army fatigues. Inside the lead boat were five more men, all of the same size and dress. At the bow sat Steven Webber, second in command of the Nameless Ship. Sweat poured off of his brow, his attempts to wipe it away seemingly futile. He sat atop a small crate, inside of which were a number of automatic guns. Knives were strapped to each of the men behind of him, and even Webber himself carried a small pistol. The mission had been laid out: get the information needed and then wipe them out.

"Hey, I think I see a few women," a tall, tanned man behind Webber chuckled.

A grin fell upon the face of another. "Too bad Helmsly would kill us if we don't do 'exactly as told' or whatever."

"Will you two shut up?" Webber snapped, checking that the thick bandage on his cheek hadn't fallen off, "Let's just do this quickly and move on?"

"Hey, Webs?" a third man with dark black, skin chimed in, "What the hell are we even looking for? I thought that ship was just some stupid fishing vessel."

"It was collecting ocean life samples, for one thing," Webber sneered, "Not fishing. Second, what we're looking for isn't your problem."

"What a tool," the man mumbled under his breath. The comment went unheard by Webber.

The boat suddenly started shaking beneath them, swaying back and forth. The men fell to their knees, grabbing onto the sides of the boat, attempting to steady it. As quickly as it had begun, the shifting stopped. A silence hung in the air as all six men looked at each other, wordlessly asking, "what was that?" Only the silent ocean rippled in reply. Webber cast a look to the ship behind them and saw only a confused look from the three men. As he watched them, he saw their boat suddenly begin shaking as well. With only three men to steady it, it capsized within moments. The men clung to the boat, trying to stay afloat.

"Turn around, men!" Webber growled, "Let's get them out of the water." As two men began rowing, Webber looked on in shock as one of the men in the water was suddenly pulled under. Webber blinked and looked again. The man was still gone. Webber was shaken and changed the orders, saying that they should stay away. A minute passed, and the missing man suddenly rose face up to the surface. As quickly as he surfaced, another was pulled under. The third man started screaming for help.

"We need to help him!" the black man yelled at Webber.

Webber turned his back on the sight. "Let's get to shore. I'm not in the mood to fight sharks." The man rose up and screamed at Webber.

"You bast!"

Webber slapped him across the face. "Helmsly put me in charge, not you! You have a problem with my orders, take it up with him." The black man was going to protest, but one of the rowers pulled him back.

On the shore, Miranda and the others looked on in disbelief. Beck had propped himself up between Graise and Stacy, refusing to sit down. Miranda was behind the bow of the Derringer, flare gun in hand and ready for trouble. They weren't prepared to see one of the possible rescue boats fall over, the men inside appearing to drown.

"What's... what's going on out there?" Stacy stammered.

"Probably a shark," Graise decided, talking to no one in particular, "Figures."

"One of the boats is getting away," Beck said quietly, certain he was witnessing the death of more people. He couldn't really handle that thought. Beck looked back towards were Miranda was hid. She was apparently a good shot, and since Beck's foot had swollen he wasn't prepared to worry about the shock of firing a flare gun. "Stay where you are Miranda." Beck warned her too late. She had already looked and pulled back in shock.

Webber's boat hit the sand, and the five other men jumped out and pulled it ashore. Webber looked at the small welcoming committee and wasn't impressed. Two paper thin scientists and a lame man weren't going to cause much trouble. He rose from his seat and stared at one of the men, motioning for him to come closer. "I'm not in the mood to play games, considering what happened," he sneered, "Let's do this quick, and let's do this now."

The man nodded and went to the crate in the boat, opening it up. Meanwhile, Webber began a slow, methodical walk towards Beck and the others, slowly pulling out the pistol he had strapped to his belt.

"What the sam hell is going on here?" Beck demanded. He tried to step forward, but then he cried out in pain, followed up by a curse. He crumpled to the beach, holding onto his foot. The four men around Webber, now carrying automatics, just laughed.

"Give us the information we want, and you may come out of this little ordeal alive," Webber said simply. One of the men behind Webber cocked a gun, emphasizing his point.

"So..." Beck growled, holding back his pain, "There still are pirates. Pathetic."

"Pirates," Webber chuckled, "There's a first. Sure, I guess we fit the bill. We steal from ships, and all."

"Well, we won't tell you anything," Stacy said, stepping forward, raising her head defiantly."

"Speak for yourself," Graise said, stepping back and raising his hands. Looking at Webber, he said quickly, "I'm ready to cooperate in anyway possible."

"Jerk," Stacy said under her breath.

"That's great to hear," Webber said, slowly walking forward, gun raised, "What have you recovered from the wreckage so far? Anything of interest?"

"I don't know what it is you want!" a voice yelled. Everyone turned to see the black 'pirate' leading Miranda out from her hiding place with his rifle. She had her arms raised, no longer holding the flare gun, and continued. "We were just collecting ocean samples."

"That's not what my employer was told," Webber said shrugging.

"She's telling the truth," Graise offered. Webber gave an incredulous look to the smaller man, and then hit him across the back of the head with the butt of his pistol. Graise dropped like a rock, knocked out completely.

"Throw them together," Webber snarled. Stacy and Miranda were thrown on the fallen form of Graise and Beck soon followed. Webber scratched his forehead with the barrel of the gun. "Now, if you're not going to cooperate, we can just dredge ocean and look through what you've scrapped together. It makes no difference to me."

"We don't know what you're looking for!" Miranda screamed, "It's the truth!"

"Huh," Webber replied, "You really don't. Oh well, your loss."

"Wait!" Beck interrupted, his eyes wide open as if he remembered something, "Are you looking for something... like an artifact?"

Webber smiled. "Now we're getting somewhere," he smiled. Webber dropped to one knee, though it took much groaning and heavy breathing on his part. "Was this something in a small, black box, located in a hidden hold?"

"Yeah," Beck said, suddenly getting a confused look, "But how did you know?"

"There was a plant on your ship," Webber answered with a shrug, "However, he seems to have not survived the storm." Webber looked around, just to make sure. Then he locked eyes with Beck. "So tell me, where is it now?"

During this interrogation, Miranda's eyes grew wide as she noticed something behind the men in front of her. There was a man rising from the water, a golden mane of unruly hair atop of his head and a long beard on his face. He wore no shirt and had a pair of sleek, black pants on. Behind him he dragged the three men who had been pulled under water earlier.

"I don't know," Beck said, unnoticed by Miranda, "Probably at the bottom of the sea. Destroyed for all I know."

For a moment, Miranda locked her fearful eyes with the wild looking man's. A shiver went down her back as she met his cold, steel blue eyes. He took his attention away from her and looked straight at the men in front of her.

"Well then," Webber said, shaking his head and trying to rise from the ground, "I'm afraid you're useless to us." Two of the men helped Webber to his feet. He looked at his men and began to tell them to shoot, when he saw the wild man walking towards them. "What the?" The wild man leapt.

He was on them in an instant, tacking one from behind cracking him on the back of the head with his bare fists. The man was rendered unconscious. He turned towards the other men who had backed away and jumped, landing a hard kick to another one of the men. Webber screamed for the wild man to be shot, but their foe was too fast. As soon as one aimed, he was on them with a hard punch or a knee to the gut. Finally, there were only two men left standing. A gun did go off, grazing the shoulder of the wild man. It caused him to only stumble for a moment, but this moment was enough.

One of the men grabbed the wild man from behind as the other rushed forward, landing a stiff punch to the gut. The man punching noticed it felt like he was hitting a tree, but he continued laying on the punishment. The wild man grunted and finally pulled free, reaching around and flipping the man behind him forward. He fell into the other man, and the two fell unconscious. The wild man then looked at Webber who had run for the nearest boat. He jumped towards him and tackled Webber to the ground. He flipped Webber over onto his back and stared him in the face.

"Take your men," he snapped, and then pointing to the three men he dragged on shore, "All of them, and go. Don't come back." He slapped Webber in the face and grabbed his dropped pistol and crushed it in his hands. He then began walking around to all of the guns and gathering them, removing ammunition and rendering them useless in similar fashions.

Miranda and the others watched this in silence. They hadn't heard any of what he had said to Webber. All they had seen was the amazing fight. This apparent wild man had just bested five strong men, and didn't seem to break a sweat. The disheveled man walked forward and looked them over. Kneeling down, he held out his hand towards Miranda. Stacy looked at Mira fearfully, unsure of what was going to happen. Miranda gulped, and took his hand. He carefully helped her off of the ground. As she got to her feet, she felt light headed as her eyes met his. He seemed so dangerous, and yet, there was a kindness.

"Who are you?" Beck demanded wincing as he forced himself up from the ground, "I'm not in any mood for some mystery, Tarzan of the jungle shit."

The wild man let go of Mira's hand and frowned, looking towards Beck. He just glared and then helped Stacy up from the ground. Graise quickly jumped to his feet, and backed up behind Beck when the wild man approached.

"I'm a friend," the wild man said simply, "Follow me and I'll get you somewhere safe."

-

Night had fallen as a boat laden with weapons and men was lowered from the Nameless Ship. Captain Helmsly stood over the lowered boat, watching as it hit the water. He had a backpack strapped on, and a row of knives sat on a sash around his chest. He had a grin on his face as he smoked a cigar.

"Captain," Webber said, walking up behind him slowly, "Maybe we should just scavenge the sea, find the tablet and move on. I'd rather not face that savage again."

"Don't worry Webber," Helmsly said, removing the cigar and allowing the smoke to flow out from his lips, "You'll be staying here."

"But Captain-" Webber quickly stopped his protests as he saw Helmsly reach to knife. He let out a sigh of relief when the hand slowly went elsewhere.

"Webber," Helmsly said, wrapping his arm around him and walking towards the captain's quarters, "If what you say about this 'savage,' as you call it, is true, it could be worth ten times as much as that piece of rock. Think about it." The two stopped for a moment as Helmsly opened the door to his quarters. "You look like you need a drink." Helmsly motioned for Webber to go to the table with a bottle of scotch on top. Webber walked straight over, poured himself a glass and drank deeply.

After finishing his drink, Webber looked at Helmsly. He was kneeled over an opened chest. Webber tried to sneak a look inside but couldn't see anything. With a shrug, he asked, "But what if he's too dangerous for you to handle?" Webber heard a laugh and watched as Helmsly rose from the chest. In his hands sat a harpoon gun.

"There is nothing on legs or with fins I can't catch," Helmsly smiled. He took out his cigar and smashed in into an ash tray on his desk. Then he turned to Webber and aimed the gun at him. He began to laugh louder. "It's hunting season."


	3. Savage No More

Ultimate Aquaman: The Savage

- Entertainer13 -

Part Three: Savage No More

Nine Years Ago

Dr. Thomas Curry looked out over the ocean, watching the sun set. His face held a solemn demeanor, scarcely hidden underneath his thick, brown beard. He was a tall, built man with a bald head. His right arm hung around his wife's shoulders, and he gently squeezed her arm. She turned her face towards him, forcing a small smile. His short, brown hair flew in the breeze.

"It's a beautiful view," she said quietly, looking back towards the sun set, "It always is." A small tear rolled down her cheek. Her husband looked down at her, sadly.

"Sara," he said quietly, "We can try again. Just give it time."

Sara shook her head, and said with surprising strength, "No. I don't think I could go through losing another child. It's such a horrible feeling." She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to console herself.

Taking Sara into both of his arms, Thomas kissed her on the forehead. "We'll worry about this later," he said afterwards, "Let's just go back inside." Sara pulled away from Thomas.

"Just a while longer," she insisted, walking towards the railing of their deck. The two lived in a beach house, overlooking the Atlantic. "It's been awhile since I just watched a sun set." Thomas smiled and turned to go back inside. She needed time alone.

Sara looked out towards the ocean, leaning slowly on the railing in front of her. The waves crashed on the shore as she watched the lighthouse in the distance light up. She would have to go inside soon. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, preparing to do just that. As she opened her eyes, she looked down towards the beach and saw the oddest sight. Her eyes went wide. Lying on the shore was a child with short, blonde hair. He was face down, evidently washed up.

"Tom!" she screamed, running down the stairs of their patio, towards the surf, "Tom!" She ran towards the figure, motionless on the sand.

-

His mind was a blur. Flashes of a previous life cascade before his eyes. Deformed men charging, spears in hand; a large, liquid form gives its hand; a pair of warm, green eyes look off in a distant direction; a large burst of electricity flies forward. He hears a voice off in the distance. A song is being sung... a soothing song. He then hears a name.

Arthur.

-

"He's not a dog, Sara," Thomas said to his wife as he looked out a window. His hair was a mess and there were bags under his eyes. The sixteen year old boy in the next room had kept him up the past two nights. Constantly needed water, violent spasms crushing the furniture; there were a lot of strange things about this boy. "Besides, he's not exactly normal. He seems normal, now that he's woken up, but still."

"Do you want to report him to the government?" Sara laughed, walking up to her husband, "Let them cut him open!"

"There's been odd people in the past," Thomas replied, turning to look her in the eyes, "The government never turned them into experiments."

"Well, those they didn't became soldiers," Sara continued walking in circles. Finally, she took a stance and continued, saying, "Let's just test the waters. Keep an eye on him, and you can use your contacts in the Bureau to find out what might happen to him."

"I can't believe we're arguing about this!" Thomas growled, throwing his hands up in the air, "He's not ours. We have no clue what he's capable of. He could be some monster waiting to strike-"

"A monster?" Sara laughed, cutting him off, "He doesn't even remember who he is. Besides, with eyes like those? They're as blue as the sea. They remind me of my father's."

"That's why you call him Arthur," Thomas said shaking his head, knowing he'd lost the argument. His shoulders slumped in resignation as he walked over towards Sara. He put his arms around her and held her back close.

"My dad loved the sea," Sara smiled, "You know that."

"I thought he was just some nut who lived in a light house," Thomas laughed, smiling. A sharp elbow to his gut kept him quiet.

"Stop it!" Sara giggled. The two stood quietly, enjoying the moment. After the moment had passed, she asked, "So, we take care of him?"

Thomas sighed, and replied, "Yes. We'll take care of him."

-

Now

Arthur peered through the tall weeds, watching as the small search party passed by. There were five of the men that he'd beaten the day before, this time armed with enough ammunitions to take over a third world country. Between the grenades and automatics, it seemed like overkill to him. It wasn't a big problem, though. He'd just have to be more careful. He waited until the last man had passed before running back towards the cave.

After saving the people yesterday, he had taken them to one of his many homes on the island. It was a small cave in on the southern tip of the island. It was behind a waterfall and hard to find. A U.S. Coast Guard patrol always came by about every other day, so he would hopefully be rid of all these people soon.

-

A man crawled out of the hole in the ground, covered in mud and weeds. He looked up straight into the face of Walter Helmsly, fisherman turned mercenary. His scarred features sent a shiver down the man's spine. This was only worsened when the image was joined by Helmsly's gruff voice.

"Well?" he demanded, grabbing the man and pulling him up towards his face, "Did you find anything?"

"There was a bed of cloth and stuff," came the response, "But it seems old."

Satisfied, Helmsly dropped the man and walked off towards the edge of the group. He had ordered his men to split into two groups patrolling the coast. If this savage man came from the water, he'd likely live there. No matter how well hidden it may be, he would find the lair of this creature and sell him off to his employer.

"Come on!" Helmsly barked out, "Let's move!"

-

The four of them sat around the damp cavern, sour looks on their faces. The last crew members of the Derringer sourly thought about what had brought them to this point. Mira and Stacy sat together on a rock, near a small pool in the center of the cave. Graise, glasses cracked and hair covered dirt, sat with his back turned towards the rest, high upon a rock. Beck watched the waterfall, pouring in front of the entrance. He leaned against the wall, staring. His face was contorted in concentration, his eyes bloodshot. He'd gone almost twenty-four hours without a cigarette, and he wasn't happy.

"Damn," Beck muttered to no one, "Dumb ass gunmen, jungle freaks." He winced, leaning on his injured ankle the wrong way. He continued to stare off into the water.

Stacey watched Beck closely, concern on her face. Miranda, in turn, watched her. Emotions were running high, and their lives seemed to be at risk. This wasn't exactly a happy situation. Miranda looked down into the pool, watching her reflection ripple in the water. She couldn't get that man out of her mind. He was so wild, yet seemed composed of a calmness. It was in his eyes.

"What was it?" Graise's voice suddenly asked, breaking the reverie of Miranda. Stacy and Mira looked towards Graise, seeing he was looking straight at Beck. Beck spat on the ground and turned.

"What was what?" he asked, as if he was being challenged. Graise rose from where he was sitting. He stood strong and firm, trying to look as intimidating as possible.

"That 'artifact' that those Cro-Magnon's were looking for," Graise replied, "The one that almost got us killed." Beck smirked and turned back to his original position.

"Hell if I know," he said simply. Graise's eyes bulged.

"Don't hand me that garbage!" he screamed, his hands clenched in fists, ghost white, "We deserve to know what we almost got killed over!" Stacy tried to say something, but Mira motioned for her to stay silent.

Beck continued to keep his back towards Graise, merely replying, "It was a shipment that STAR Labs lost on an earlier run like this. One of the boys from your crew picked it up. I thought you knew."

"Obviously I didn't" Graise said bitterly. Beck started chuckling. Fuming, Graise walked over towards Beck and grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him around. "Don't laugh at me!"

With lightning quick reflexes, Beck grabbed Graise's arm and twisted it hard. He bent it around to Graise's back, who in turn let out a silent whimper. He doubled over as Beck continued to hold his arm. The larger man finally bent over and whispered, "I'm not in a good mood. Don't ever yell at me, or touch me again, got it?" Graise nodded and Beck let go of his arm. The STAR Labs scientist slowly walked over towards his original sitting place, protectively holdings his bruised arm. Stacy rose as if to yell at Beck, when Mira pulled her back down.

"It's resolved," she whispered to her friend, "Let's just leave it alone."

Stacy looked at Mira in shock, answering, "They're going to kill each other!"

"No they won't," Mira said, closing her eyes, "We have a common enemy, and they're just both angry. No one got hurt."

"Tell that to Eddy," Stacy said, looking over at the scientist with sympathy.

"He deserved it and you know it," Mira said simply, looking back at her reflection.

Stacy didn't respond. She picked up a stick from what seemed to be a make shift bed near the pool. She started poking at some rocks, board. Turning her attention towards a large rock embedded in the ground, she tried to pry it loose. Much to her surprise, it quickly gave way and popped out of the ground. The rock flew over into a corner, knocking into a wall. Stacy looked down in shock at the hole before her. A small, tattered book lay wrapped in some red cloth. She reached down and picked it up.

"M... Mira?" she said quietly to her friend. Miranda turned around to see what the matter was. She spied the book and her eyes went wide.

"What do you have there?" Beck asked, limping over towards Stacy. He bent over and reached for the book, but Mira grabbed it from before either one of her friends could react.

"This is obviously our host's," Mira said, cradling it in her arms, "Let's leave it alone."

"Our host?" Graise laughed, not moving from the corner he was in, "That savage is no host. He's probably going to eat us when he gets back."

"Shut up," Beck said plainly Graise as he grabbed the book from Miranda, "I don't think it'll hurt to just see what it is."

Miranda gave up, and walked off towards the cave entrance where Beck had been standing earlier. Beck opened the book as Stacy watched. A tattered, old picture fell out of the pages. Beck picked it up and looked at it closely. A teenager stood next to what seemed to be his parents. The teenager looked very similar to someone Beck had seen before.

"Whad'ya know?" Beck chuckled, "Tarzan wasn't raise by any apes."

"My name is Arthur," a voice broke in, "And I would appreciate it if you put that back."

Beck and Stacy spun around to see Arthur, still crudely shaven, standing in the entryway next to Miranda. Miranda just watched on with a sad look on her face.

"Hey, man," Beck said, quickly putting the picture back and wrapping up the book, "Sorry. We're just-"

"Just put it back," Arthur said, walking over to where the two were. He grabbed the small volume and put it back in the hole, covering it up with some more rocks. He looked straight at Beck. "We have other problems to worry about."

"Don't tell me," Stacy interrupted, taking in a small breath as she looked behind Arthur, "Those guys with the guns are back." Arthur looked at Stacy with a confused look, when he suddenly heard a cough behind him.

Spinning around, he saw Captain Helmsly holding onto a terrified Miranda, his hand covering her mouth. A gun barrel was placed at her temple, and a sneer adorned his face. About ten men stood behind him, various weapons in their hands. Arthur rose up and looked Helmsly in the eye.

"I told the earlier men not to come back," he snarled, "You didn't listen."

"When I could capture a prize such as you?" Helmsly laughed, "Of course not. I know many people who would love to carve up a savage meta-human such as yourself, so unless you want this pretty lady to die, please, surrender."

Arthur looked around the cavern. Graise sat frozen, his arms straight in the air. Stacy had sheltered herself in Beck's arms. He then looked at the men in front of him. He then looked at Miranda. Their eyes met, and a familiar shiver went down his spine. His eyes then met Helmsly's. They were cold and deadly.

"You win," Arthur said, "I surrender."


	4. Warrior Born

Ultimate Aquaman: The Savage

- Entertainer13 -

Part Four: Warrior Born

Six Years Ago

Arthur was happy.

Thomas and Martha Curry took great care of him for three years. Eventually, they pulled a few strings and adopted him. They then began exploring Arthur's abilities. They discovered that every few hours or so, Arthur needed to return to water. While fresh water could sustain him, he needed salt water to thrive. He had amazing strength, incredible speed, and his skin could withstand the mightiest of blows. He was truly a miracle.

Thomas taught him from their home on the coast. Not only was Thomas a medical doctor, but he had an interest in a variety of fields. He worked for research facility, and was constantly being offered jobs elsewhere. Thomas and Sara believed in loyalty, however, and stayed in place. Arthur learned quickly, recalling things he knew of math and science, yet never remembering what happened to him before he washed up on the beach.

One night, a group of men came to the Curry house. Arthur was out swimming, but came back just in time to see them slapping Thomas around, and holding Sara back. They screamed about Thomas making the wrong choice. They screamed that if they couldn't have his research, no one could. As fast as Arthur was, he wasn't faster than a bullet. Thomas and Sara were shot before his eyes, moments before he burst in and attacked the men.

Anger had swelled in him, and he attacked. The men stood no chance, and took them all down in moments. In rage, he continued punching the last man. Blow after blow was dealt to the man in Arthur's grasp. Instinctively he held back. Thomas had trained him. Arthur's fist was held high, ready for another strike. He then noticed the weak breathing of the man. His blood stained Arthur's hands. His face was distorted, almost inhuman. He looked over at the bodies of Thomas and Sara, and dropped the man. He stood up and looked down on the men with contempt.

"I let you live for their sakes," Arthur said, noting his parents, "They showed me kindness and love. I can do no less."

He tied the men up in whatever way possible. He took the bodies and tenderly wrapped thin in bed sheets. Then, he called the police and told them what happened. He would make arrangements later. He would meet them later. He couldn't handle this. He turned to the ocean, and ran down the beach. The wind flew in his hair as he leapt towards the surf, landing dozens of feet in, crashing beneath the waves. Arthur swam. He swam from his parent's killers. He swam from the only people who he ever knew as family. He swam until his arms could no longer feel anything.

-

Now

Arthur screamed.

Held by Helmsley's men, hundreds of volts of electricity surged through his body. It was yet another in a series of shocks to his system. He slumped over, seemingly unconscious. Helmsley stood back, relenting on his urge to use the taser once again. The mercenary had raised the level of electricity in the small device, solely to test out the savage's resistance. If the man had died, only he would know of the failure. Helmsley nodded to his men, who lifted up the body and prepared to drag it away.

Helmsley then turned to the last of the Derringer's crew, and smiled. All were held by the rest of his men, completely at his mercy. He looked them over, a small smile on his face. The blonde was cute, but it was the brunette the wild man had protected so fiercely. A thought dawned on him. Why waste space with more than one person to keep the wild man in check? All they needed was the one. She would do. He walked up to Miranda, and leaned in close.

"Tell me, beautiful," he asked softly, his breath smelling faintly of liquor, "What's your name?" When she remained silent, the man holding her tightened his grip on her neck. She relented.

"Mir... Miranda."

"Miranda, eh?" Helmsley remarked wistfully. He turned and walked towards the form of Arthur. He seemed to consider the wild man for a moment, before continuing, "Lovely name. Well, you know something, Miranda?"

"What?" she asked, defiantly. She and the rest of her comrades looked on in vain. Their protector was defeated. He had gone into his enemy's hands willingly, and was surprised with the attack from the taser. It seemed hopeless.

"You owe this savage your life," Helmsley said simply, his head looking behind him towards Mira, "His devotion to you has given you a ticket to live. Sadly, the rest of your friends are expendable. Men, kill them, and let's go."

Arthur's eyes shot open. He had rested during this small respite to his torture. Another few more shots, and he was afraid what would have happened. He had to act now. This wasn't part of the arrangement. He knew it was temporary one, but he wasn't willing to sacrifice anyone. He'd seen enough death in his lifetime. He'd be damned if he'd see anymore.

Flexing his muscles, Arthur reached deep within himself and pulled at the men holding him back. He wrenched himself free of their grip, snapping apart the rope binding his wrists. He leapt forwards, straight for Helmsley. He tackled the taller man to the ground, and reached into the side pocket quickly, grabbing the knife Helmsley had. The armed men were too worried to shoot, or else hurt Helmsley. By the time, the struggle ended, Arthur was behind his foe, a knife held to the throat. He looked to the men around him.

"Get to the entrance of the cave, or he dies!" Arthur snarled. Truthfully, they were at a standoff. They had hostages, he had a hostage. Still, he was hoping they held a loyalty to their captain that overrode common sense. Helmsley chuckled in front of him.

"You idiot," he said, "They outnumber you, and you think they give shit about me? They're just hired gunmen, here for the money." Arthur winced inwardly, but had one last hope. They were dead if he gave up, they were dead if he didn't. Time for a gamble.

Arthur flung Helmsley behind him, straight at the men holding Miranda and he men. The confusion caused them to spread. In that moment, Arthur leapt for the three men who had been holding him. Fists flying, he took the three out in seconds, and tore off their guns, flinging them into the pool of water outside the cave. He turned to where he threw Helmsley, and was somewhat surprised.

Beck and Mira were getting Graise and Stacy behind them, backing off from the group in the chaos. They were holding them off pretty well, Beck with some stiff punches, Mira with some hard kicks. Arthur didn't hesitate, and flew into the fray, tackling Helmsley who was getting up off the ground. His timing was off though, and Helmsley landed a hard punch to Arthur, sending him flying into some of the men. Surprisingly enough, they all backed off. Arthur looked at them amazed. All of Helmsley's men were leaving the cave, gathering weapons and running.

"Where are you going, cowards!" Helmsley screamed in rage.

One of the men yelled back, "It ain't worth it! This guy doesn't quit!"

Helmsley's eyes widened. They were going to leave him here! They had been out at sea for the past four months, tracking the Derringer and scouting. They had complained when he had wanted to hunt down the wild man. They were fed up, and tired of being pushed around. They were going to dredge up the artifact in the ocean and go. The bastards.

Helmsley rose slowly and watched the last of his men run from the cave. He looked at Arthur, who's attention was back on him. He sneered, and then charged. Arthur moved to dodge the charge, and Helmsley took advantage of that, turning at the last minute and landing a punch to Beck, knocking the man over. He blocked a kick from Mira, elbowed her in the head, and spun around her, pulling a knife from his other pocket and holding it to her neck. Helmsley was never big on hostages, but this was the second time with the savage.

"Okay, Fish-Man," Helmsley said savagely, "I get off this hell hole, too. Give me a few minutes to catch up to my men, or else she gets it."

"You're the idiot now," Arthur answered quietly, "They seem dead set on leaving you here."

"You bastard," Helmsley growled, bringing the knife closer to Mira's throat, "Why couldn't you have left this alone? You had to be the hero. You could have just let us go about our business, but you had to get involved. Why?"

"Because men like you can't be left alone," Arthur said, unflinching, "Because men like you ruin lives for profit. Because men like you need to be stopped."

"How over the top," Helmsley laughed, "I think I'll take my chances. You, just stay away!" He backed up, holding tightly on the struggling Mira. He soon made his way out of the cave as everyone watched. Arthur turned to the rest in the cave.

"You," he said, pointing to Stacy, "Make sure he is okay." He motioned towards Beck, and Stacy immediately went to work. "I'll be back in a few moments. I'll take care of this." He looked at Graise, and said plainly. "Stay out of her way."

Soon, he was gone, leaving an angered Dr. Graise in his wake.

-

Walter Helmsley made his way down the beach with Miranda in his grasp. His men were loading into the row boats and getting ready to leave. The woman in his arms screamed and complained as she neared the surf. Helmsley called out to the men loading into the last of the boats, but they ignored him, quickly heading out towards the ocean. Walter cursed under his breath.

"Let me, go!" Miranda screeched. Helmsley pulled the knife closer to her through, attempting to quiet her. It worked. He looked around, unsure of what to do. He had top get away from the savage. He could lure him into the jungle. Yeah, that might work. Surprise him, kill him, and then kill everyone else. Then if anyone picks him up, he can make up a story about this crazy cannibal who tried to kill them all. That could do it. He quickly pulled Miranda with him into the wild jungle.

The trees seemed to fall in on Helmsley as he tried to find some sort of trail. This was a new experience for him. He'd been raised to go into the fishing business with his dad, but that fell through. After the military, he became a mercenary. Yet, with all the jobs he's had, never had he met up with someone so relentless. Could he even hurt this guy? The electricity weakened him, but who's to say that his skin still isn't as hard as rock. Helmsley was sweating. He wasn't used to this kind of panic. He wasn't scared, just rightfully concerned.

He heard the noise of rushing water and followed it. Eventually, the trees parted, and before Helmsley was an empty plain. At the end was a sharp cliff. Nowhere else to run. He couldn't back track. He was certain the savage had followed. In rage, he flung Miranda to the ground and gave her a stiff kick. She screamed in pain.

"Don't do that again!" a voice growled from behind Helmsley. The fisherman turned around just in time to be plowed over by the savage. They began to roll around around, until finally Helmsley hit a stiff head butt. He rolled away and slowly rose to his feet, waving the knife menacingly.

Rising to his feet, Arthur said offhandedly, "It's funny. I'm ready to beat you to a pulp, and I don't even know your name."

"Walter Helmsley," came the response. Helmsley looked Arthur over. There were cuts on his feet and legs from the jagged rocks on the ground. They looked fresh. He could be hurt! "Not that it matters. You're going to be dead in a few moments."

Silently, they considered one another. Then, they each charged. Helmsley hit a hard punch to Arthur, followed up by a hard kick to the ribs. Blow after blow was dealt on Arthur, but every time the knife came close, it somehow missed. Finally, the blade struck home, slashing Arthur across his right bicep. Arthur grunted in response, and laid a stiff punch to Helmsley's face.

After a few more exchanges, Helmsley dropped to his knees, and made a sweep kick, knocking Arthur over, onto his back. Splayed out, Helmsley made to lunge at his foe. Instinctively, Arthur made a hard kick to Helmsley's knee, causing him to double over. The knife came falling straight towards Arthur's left hand...

-

Miranda shook her head awake. She had been knocked silly by Helmsley's kick, and she began to orient herself. To one side, she saw a cut off. They were near a cliff. She looked to the other side, and saw Helmsley repeatedly hitting Arthur. Finally, both seemed to be falling, the knife in Helmsley's hand heading towards Arthur's left hand. Thankfully, Arthur rolled out of the way just in time.

She tried to rise, but her ribs hurt. Damn pirate! She could barely move. She dragged herself over to a boulder, trying to find anyway to get up. She watched the fight closely, and noted that Arthur seemed to get a second wind. He knocked the knife out of Helmsley's hand and began to repeatedly punch him. Blow after blow caused Helmsley to stager back, towards the cliff. Mira was finally able to get herself sitting on top of the boulder.

Helmsley blocked a punch and lunged for Arthur, going to tackle him. He wasn't going to lose. Not now! Arthur was weak from earlier abuse, and easily fell under the weight of his opponent. Helmsley landed on top of Arthur and began pounding away. After a few seconds, Arthur's face was busted open. A smile crept across Helmsley's face. He was going to win. That elation was short lived, though. Seconds later, he was knocked off of Arthur.

Mira had used what strength she had left, plowing into Helmsley. Arthur slowly rose to his feet along with Helmsley. The mercenary was charged by the so-called savage, and knocked over with a hard punch. Helmsley fell to his back, groaning. Arthur stumbled towards the fallen knife and plucked it up from the ground before walking over towards Helmsley. Moments later, he stood over his foe, knife in hand.

"Arthur!" Miranda screamed, "Don't!"

Arthur turned and looked at Mira. Their eyes connected, and he felt something yet again. She had the most reassuring gaze. He shook his head. "He can't be helped. I let some bastards go before, and they got away with murder. I'm not going to let it happen again."

"There's more to life than revenge," Miranda said, pleading, "We've beaten him. We've won. You don't like to see killing. It would be wrong of you to become a killer."

Arthur looked down at Helmsley. He hadn't been knocked out, but he seemed to be in no position to do much of anything. The first people Arthur could remember had welcomed him into their home. They had sheltered him, clothed him, taught him and even loved him. All the other people he had seen seemed to obsess for power, or be filled with hate. Perhaps, though... he'd join those in hate. He'd help their cause if he killed. Maybe this time, things would be different.

Arthur dropped the knife. He stumbled over towards Mira, unsure of what to do next. Behind him, Helmsley struggled to his feet and reached for the knife. He rose, and charged. Miranda screamed. Arthur turned. Helmsley lunged. A blur of action passed Miranda as the two figures neared the ledge. They were dangerously close, until suddenly, Arthur dropped and flipped Helmsley over his shoulders. A piercing scream soon followed, as Helmsley fell to his death.

Arthur rose to his feet, unsure of what had happened. He heard a crash in the water below, and turned around. Helmsley had fallen over the ledge of the cliff. It was over. They had won. He struggled to his feet. He needed to get to water, and soon. He walked over towards Mira, who was shaking.

"Is he?" she asked, not finishing her question. Arthur nodded, eliciting a smile in response. "Thank you." Arthur smiled in reply. This woman had been kind to him. She had tried to protect his privacy from he others, and she didn't assume he was an uneducated heathen. Perhaps, he could trust her.

"Where did you learn to fight," he asked, "Back in the cave, you handled yourself well."

"Five years of kickboxing lessons will do that for you," she smiled, "A girl's gotta protect herself."

Arthur held out his hand, his smile growing. Miranda took his hand into hers, and she rose. They stood, looking at one another. The moment seemed to last for an eternity.

center-

Beck looked at the tablet in his hands as he stood aboard a coast guard vessel. Hours after the fight with Helmsley, the Coast Guard had come by, looking for trouble. STAR Labs had assumed the worse, knowing others were trying to steal there finds. Thankfully, the "pirates" had been caught, just as they were dredging up the tablet. After that, they found the rest of the crew of the Derringer. Now, they were all safe. The past twenty four hours had been interesting.

"We almost got killed, for this?" Dr. Graise snorted from behind Beck. He shifted his glasses as he looked the tablet covered in odd runes. "Ridiculous."

"Tell that to your bosses at STAR Labs," Beck replied, looking at the smaller man, "They seemed to really want this tablet."

"Management doesn't have a clue about what they're doing," Graise muttered, walking off to be alone. Stacy walked up to Beck and put her hand on top of his.

"Don't mind Eddy, Ray," she said softly, "It's-"

"Been rough on all of us," Ray replied with a laugh, "I know. I was there."

"Yeah," Stacy said with a smile, "You were." The two shared a quiet laugh."

On the other end of the ship, Miranda stood at the railing of the boat. The wind blew through her auburn hair once more. The smell of salt in the air made her smile. She loved the sea, but she would be happy to see Florida soon. She heard footsteps behind her, and she turned to see Arthur. He looked different. His beard was trimmed, as well as his hair. She smiled.

"This is a new look for you," Mira said with a grin, noting his gray shirt clashing with his black swim pants, "You almost look respectable." Arthur just stood beside her, looking out at the sea. Mira didn't mind the silence. He had told her a lot. That was why he had come with her. He wanted to find out more about himself. He knew he couldn't hide from humanity any longer. It was time figure out his past.

"Do you think..." Arthur began, obviously grasping with the words, "Do you think these men at STAR Labs can help me?" He didn't meet her gaze, staring intently at the dolphins swimming in the boat's wake.

"Well, if they can't, I'm sure they know someone who can," Miranda reassured him. She looked away, inspecting the horizon, watching the sun set. She sighed.

"Thank you." Arthur said suddenly. Mira looked at him, startled. He was thanking her? He had saved their lives. What was he thanking her for. Before she could protest, he continued. "If you and your friends hadn't come, I don't know if I'd ever have gained the courage to leave that island. Now I can finally face some fears. Face what I've been avoiding all this time."

Miranda smiled. Her hand made its way towards Arthur's, and rested tentatively on top of it. He flinched, but not out of revulsion. Their hands rested in solace, nothing more. The two figures stood quietly as the boat skillfully cut its way through the Caribbean, heading home. Hues of orange and red basked the two in a variety of colors. The peace was broken by two words.

"Your welcome."

The End

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